Gracie & Eric: Trials of the "Hart"
by Rhine
Summary: A continuation of the movie, following Matthews & Hart
1. Default Chapter

Author: Harlaquinne ****

Author: Harlaquinne

****

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, I never have and never will, the big studios gobble up all the good fictional people, so please don't sue, you own all the best figments of my imagination already.

McDonald sat grudgingly behind his desk, gritting his teeth and staring down at the case report before him. He briefly skimmed through the remaining pages and looked up to the agents in front of him. "You managed to blow up the Miss United States back drop, blowing Lady Liberty's head sky high," he began. Both Hart and Matthews cringed at the tone of his voice. "But you managed to keep the actual Miss United States out of the explosion – I suppose that's a mission accomplished." The agents continued to look nervously at him, unaware of what his next statement might be. "So good job, take a break, you deserved it." Hart and Matthews leaned forward in their chairs to make sure they'd heard correctly, Gracie almost managing to fall completely onto the floor. McDonald returned his attention to the case report, a sign that the conversation had ended and they were to leave. Quickly, the agents headed for the door with disbelief written across their faces, but they hurried none the less, just in case, when he got to the end of the report – he'd change his mind. As Eric held the door open for Hart, McDonald spoke again, not even looking up from the papers. "Hart – do us all a favor – go home and take off that thong, I'm tired of seeing you pulling out wedgies."

Matthews laughed and followed as she stalked out of the door, offended. "Just as long as I get to watch," he joked, simply smiling at the glare she shot him.

"You know they gave me my gun back…" she warned.

In the elevator ride down, Eric edged closer to Hart, his nose strategically placed. Alarmed at his movement, she whipped around. "Were you just sniffing me?!" she confronted him, eyeing him suspiciously. Caught in the act, he slowly backed away, holding his hands up in peace.

"What can I say?" he feigned innocence,"Your shampoo has an intriguing smell!" She shot him another look. "Ok, ok, so I'm really just going to miss being able to be even close to your hair without something jumping out of it and attacking me, who knows what things were lurking in those tangles. But, uh, you know I could give you some hair tips..." He gazed at his reflection in the elevator doors admiringly and smoothed back his hair. At that, she promptly hit him in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain as the elevator doors slid open. Exiting, she tripped and stumbled quite un**_grace_**fully onto the sidewalk.

"What were your parents thinking when they named you?" he laughed, still clutching his stomach. He followed her out of the elevator, extending a hand to her where she sat upon the cement. Gratefully she reached up to accept his help, but he immediately jerked his hand away, causing her to fall once more to the sidewalk. Cocky, he started to walk away laughing, only to have his legs knocked out from beneath him as she swept him to the ground.

"I'm running out of ways _not_ to use my gun, and you don't want me to come to my last resort so early in our relationship do you?" she flashed his a smile before regaining her balance and helping him up.

"You're giving me the feeling that those two dates you've had before didn't end well."

"I didn't shoot any of 'em Matthews, so don't worry," she gestured to her gun,"This baby's only for the really annoying people in life," she paused,"Like you!" she chimed in cheerfully.

"Oh come on," he laughed as he slapped her ass,"You know you love me…"

"All the love in the world won't save you if you ever do that ag…" her sentence went unfinished, smothered by a kiss.

There's more to come, but please review!


	2. You Wanna Date Me...

Hart cursed as someone began knocking on her door,"Just my luck that he'd have to be early," she muttered under her breath, smearing make-up on her face

Hart cursed as someone began knocking on her door,"Just my luck that he'd have to be early," she muttered under her breath, smearing make-up on her face. It, well, sorta looked like how Vic had done it, if you used a little imagination. "Just screw it," she grumbled wiping it all off on a towel now smeared with foundation and eye shadow from previous attempts. "I'll just go au natural," she decided, completely butchering the French phrase in her attempt to speak it with an accent. Snagging her purse off the counter she hurried to the door, stopping to push back her hair before she opened it. Matthews stood outside her apartment, flowers in hand, looking confident to the point of cockiness as usual. For a moment she glared enviously at his well-maintained locks, before greeting him with smile. 

"What no sash?" he asked in an attempt to sound disappointed as he looked her from head to toe.

"You're early for this 'casual dinner' of ours," she pointed out, taking the flowers from him,"You're lucky I'm just always this pretty or I'd never of been ready for you." He raised an eyebrow at her as she retreated into her apartment to get a vase. Though, from her lack of flowers over the years, the best vase she could find was an old, empty Marshmallow Crème Jar – it would work. "So where are we going tonight?" she asked as she shut the door behind them and they started down the hall.

"I thought we'd head for a Steak House, you like steak dontcha Hart? Big chunk of red meat – right up your alley." Hart cringed at the memory of Vic and the table manners incident at the restaurant. Well, thing were different now. She'd finally figured out where the napkin was supposed to go _and_ she closed her mouth when chewing. Closing your mouth when chewing had proved to be an important tactic, preventing Vic and Eric from seeing exactly what it was she was eating – with her mouth closed they couldn't tell donut from carrot.

At the steak house, they were seated near the back and Matthews pulled out the chair for her. "Matthews? A gentleman?" Hart laughed,"This is a side I've never seen of you."

"Oh come on – I'm a gentleman, you know it, what about that night at the pool? I was completely gentlemanly."

"Up until the point you pulled me into the pool, or have you forgotten that?"

"You totally fell." Hart was about to retort before the waiter set down their meals.

"Hey – your steak looks bigger than mine," Gracie commented.

"Only 'cause you just gnawed off a huge chunk already," Matthews laughed.

"I did not 'gnaw' anything – I have table manners, thank you very much!" She motioned to the napkin in her lap instead of tucked in her shirt bib-style. "See?"

"So now instead of wolfing down your Ben & Jerry's, you daintily devour it, right?"

"Damn right."

After dinner, they returned to Matthews' car – a sleek, high performance sports car. It's fitting, Hart thought, that the car should match his ego so perfectly.

"So where we going now Matthews?"

"My place."

"Oh, that was subtle."

"To watch a movie Hart! Honestly, what do you think of me?"

"Well, I believe your words were "If we happen to have sex afterwards – so be it." What kind of conclusion is a girl supposed to draw from that?"

"A girl? I wouldn't say that to a girl, but you Hart, you're different."

She laid her hand down hard on his leg,"And that would be mean exactly what?" He glanced nervously at her grip on his leg.

"It would mean exactly that you would be considered, more of a lady."

"That's better," she said satisfied, settling back into her seat. As they drove, Matthews slipped one hand from the steering wheel and rested it on her leg. She looked from his hand to him.

"Don't tell me you haven't heard things about the kind of guys that drive these cars."

"You mean that they're always putting the moves on young girls? Vic would be simply crushed if he heard that."

"C'mon Hart, don't bring that up – it just ruins the moment debating another man's attraction for me, besides, you're just jealous."

"Well don't go and say things like that on our date! It makes me start to wonder exactly where your hand is been, and after that comment, I'd like you to remove it."

"You know I'm just kidding Hart."

"With the amount of time you spend with your hair, and your impeccable taste in clothes – a couple of guys at the precinct are starting to wonder. But I knew you were kidding, so you can put your hand back, go on, I wasn't complaining." Matthews returned his hand, and Hart sat back, content, and silence ensued. A moment later, Eric suddenly asked.

"Wait Hart, you were kidding too, right? About the guys? The guys at the precinct really aren't starting to wonder, right? Hart, they really aren't, right? Hey Hart, say something…"

She simply turned her head, and smiled.


	3. You Wanna Kiss Me...

"Alright Eric, what movie are we gonna watch?" Hart asked, looking around at his surprisingly well decorated apartment. Sifting through his row of films, sh read off their titles. "Jack Chan, Bruce Lee, Jean Claude Van Damm and...Bambi?" She cast a suspcious glance at him. "Bambi?" she repeated. He ran his fingers through his hair and shrugged.  
  
"It's for my...nephew...Sam, we're uh...real close..," he snatched a picture off the end table and held it up. A blond haired, blue eyed boy petting his dog smiled at Hart. Her eyes shifted to the corner of the picture where "3 x 5 Solid Wood Frame" was printed.  
  
"That picture came with the frame!"  
  
"Ok, ok! So Bambi's really just for me! In Firearms training I couldn't stand the thought of shooting a gun. SO I watched the opening scene of Bambi over and over trying to desensitize myself."  
  
"Did it work?"  
  
"No, but I've got a strange new fascination with fluffy tails." He smirked and slapped her butt.  
  
"Watch it Grease Monkey."  
  
"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling you watched more than just the opening scene?"  
  
"...Time for some goold old Jackie Chan!" She rolled her eyes and flopped down on the couch.  
  
Halfway through the movie, her eyelids were starting to droop, and she rested herself against the pillows. "Hey, hey, hey, send a little of that my way," Eric motioned.  
  
"But your pillows are just so comfortable and strangely Martha Stewart-esque," she murmered.  
  
"C'mon, I'm the same way, try me out." She relented and leaned against him, as he swept his arms around her. Settling in, she nodded.  
  
"Comfortable yes, but I'm still missing that Martha Stewart thing."  
  
"Well today we'll begin with one very good looking G-man and a former Beauty Queen. You'll be needing once couch and an empty apartment. Now, let's see what kind of fun new projects we can make this episode." He leaned in to kiss her, a kiss that lasted all the way through yet another fight scene on the television.  
  
"Congratulations Eric, you've just made even the most wholesome American homemaker sound dirty." He just laughed and kissed her again.  
  
"I'm good at other things too, you know."  
  
"I'm sure you are," and suddenly no one was paying attention to Jackie Chan's flying leg kick. They were halfway to his bedroom when she broke the kiss.  
  
"Sorry Matthews, not tonight." He looked at her with hurt eyes. "Remember you said it'd just be a casual dinner and if we happen to have sex afterward, so be it?" He nodded. "Well I just can't prove you right." She kissed him a last time and stood up to leave.  
  
"How's tomorrow?" She smirked and shut the door. 


	4. You Wanna...Do My Laundry?

11 o'clock Saturday morning she lay squished up on her mattress in a heap. A loud knocking sent her flailing out of bed and she scrambled around, disoriented. Grumbling and tripping across the floor, she pulled open her duplex door. "What?!" she muttered, her eyes half open, her hair ratted out in a tangled mass. Matthews stood before her, smiling, his hair, of course, as usual, perfect to the last strand.  
  
"Well hello to you too, Sunshine," he said, waving a bag of donuts in front of her nose and stepping inside. She greeted him with a look of half- asleep suspicion, but her eyes followed the donuts.  
  
"Mornin' Eric," she yawned, and he kissed her on the cheek, wrapping his arms around her waist,"But what the hell are you doing here? Not that I mind or anything," she snatched the donuts from him and stalked off into the kitchen. Shoving a pile of "National Enquirer"'s off the kitchen chair, she made a place for Matthews to sit, she flopped into a chair. He scooped up one of the issues and skimmed it, while she munched on a Boston Creme.  
  
"Keepin' a close eye on Bat Boy, I see."  
  
"I'm tellin' you, that kid is Public Enemy #1, but you still haven't told me what you're doing here."  
  
"Can't a guy just want to spend time with his girlfriend?"  
  
"A guy like you?"  
  
"I'm hurt!" he clutched his chest in mock offense.  
  
"What's the real reason Matthews?"  
  
"Well, uh, Beth the..."  
  
"Girl scout?" Hart offered.  
  
"...the undergrad," Matthews continued,"Keeps callin' and stoppin' by."  
  
"Revenge of the Sorority Girl," Hart mused,"Wasn't that a horror movie?"  
  
"...so I'm hidin' out here 'til she goes away."  
  
"Can't you just wave you gun around? You know they gave us those things for a reason."  
  
"Well unlike you, Gracie, some people don't like to come off as gun- toting anti-socials, right off the bat."  
  
"Hey, I'm not anti-social. I spent a week in a hotel with America's bubbliest, shining beauty queens - I am not anti-social."  
  
"'Course you're not," Matthews conceded, kissing her powder-sugar coated lips.  
  
"Damn right I'm not, " she re-affirmed, stuffing down the rest of a jelly-filled and standing up, stretching her arms. "Well Eric, if you're going to stick around, you're in for the ride of your life - it's laundry day."  
  
"Aw, Hart, don't you have something a little more interesting to do?"  
  
"Hey, you're usin' my house to hide from the kindergardener..."  
  
"College student!"  
  
"Whatever, you're hidin' out here, you can help me." She disappeared into her bedroom for a moment and returned with a bulging laundry bag. Heading for the door, she grabbed Matthews' arm,"Off to the laundry mat."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." he protested,"Hart, you just got up, you're gonna walk outta the house like that?" She looked herself over. Clean sweatpants, clean t-shirt, and her socks even matched. She shrugged and he raised an eyebrow. Throwing her arms up in defeat, she retreated back into her bedroom. Re-emerging ten minutes later in jeans and a new top, her hair pulled back in a decent ponytail, she held up her arms and turned in a circle for his approval.  
  
"Looookin' good, Hart!" Matthews whistled. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the laundry bag. He held the door open for her as they exited. Out on her front porch, starting down the steps, Gracie's neighbor stucker her head out her window, between her potted plants.  
  
"Mornin' Gracie, see you've got a gentleman caller."  
  
"Mornin' Mrs. Katsopolis - he's just a friend."  
  
"Is that all I am, huh?" Eric whispered into her ear, kissing it softly. He grabbed the laundry bag from her, wrapped his free arm around her waist, and pulled her close.  
  
Mrs. Katsopolis pulled her head back in the window and smiled,"Wish I had a couple friends like that..." 


	5. Thank You Mr. Wisdom

"It's officially a conspiracy," Hart informed Matthews, as they'd finished her laundry and were heading back up the street. "The fitted sheet is impossible to fold using any methods known to man."  
  
"Sure Hart – the sheet companies make unfoldable sheets to promote frustration and disorder amongst the masses."  
  
"That's what I'm talking about!"  
  
"Alright – no more National Enquirer for you!"  
  
Under Mrs. Katsopolis' grinning looks, they walked back up the porch and back into the house. "How 'bout some lunch, Hart?" he called as Grace retreated to her room, dumping the clean laundry in a heap on the floor. Eyeing the microwave dinner boxes, he gulped and called out,"How 'bout we order in?"  
  
"Oh sure, you've got you choice of Chang's or Norma's. Chang makes burgers and Norma makes chinese food – it's your pick."  
  
"Anything certified by the Health Dept.?"  
  
"I wouldn't count on it," Hart admitted, rejoining him in the kitchen.  
  
"To insure our safety – how 'bout we head to my place? There's a good pizza joint that delivers over there – minus the food poisoning."  
  
"I dunno...is the delivery boy cute? 'Cause if you're just tryin' to finish what we started last night, then I might have to run off with him."  
  
"I think I'm safe for now – unless you've got a passion for pimple faced, bleach blond delivery boys with braces."  
  
"Look who's talkin' – I've seen your high school pictures."  
  
"I never bleached my hair! Only the pure, natural ingredients for this babies," he defended, smoothing his hair back.  
  
"Right Matthews, since when do perms qualify as natural?"  
  
"That was not a perm! It was the humidity!"  
  
"C'mon, let's go," Gracie relented, rolling her eyes and pulling him towards the door.  
  
"It was! When it's humid I get ringlets!"  
  
"Will you shut up?" Hart laughed, pulling him into a kiss. He pulled her closer, and returned the kiss until they had to come up for air. "Mmm..." Gracie mused, a content smile on her face.  
  
"I'm that good, huh?"  
  
"Sorry Matthews, I was just thinking about a large piece of pizza – I really am hungry."  
  
"Thanks Hart, you do wonders for my self esteem."  
  
"A girl does what she can," she smirked and locked the door behind her. They made it to his car before Mrs. Katsopolis' head peaked out of the window once more.  
  
"He's good looking with a nice car! Ride it for all it's worth Gracie!" she called. Gracie shook her head in humiliation.  
  
"You know what they say - can't argue with good advice," Matthews whispered in her ear. She rolled her eyes and climbed into the car.  
  
"Let's go Mr. Wisdom."  
  
"So eager for a ride are we?"  
  
"Don't start with me Matthews – the delivery boy is sounding better and better." 


	6. Cold Pizza

"Home sweet home," Eric announced, unlocking the door.

"How sweet, is that available stitched on a pillow somewhere?"

"Sorry – I ditched Home Ec."

"Oooh, what a rebel you were! Rebel with a perm..."

"Hey – we've been over this. Hu-mid-i-ty. Humidity."

"Whatever, just order the pizza, but careful with the phone – wouldn't want you to squash your delicate ringlets."

"Payback," he glared,"Payback is coming." Grabbing the phone, he pressed '2.'

"The pizza man's on speed dial?"

"I told you I ditched Home Ec," he whispered. "Hi, yeah, I'd like a medium...," Hart coughed,"...large cheese pizza. Yeah, thanks." Hanging up the phone he shrugged,"It'll be here in 20."

"Damn fast. Special G-Man priveleges?"

"I'm a repeat customer – I keep the pizza economy thriving."

"And yet you manage to keep this nice, trim figure," she slapped his butt.

"Hey, hey, I thought this area was off limits."

"Well if you want to play by the rules..."

"Nevermind," he cut her off, pulling her to him. "I'm the rebel, remember?" She smirked and leaned back.

"He's a rebel and he'll never never be any goooood, he's a rebel 'cause he never never does what he should. Just because he doesn't do what...," he cut her off, clamping his hand over her mouth.

"Thank _god_ that wasn't your talent."

"Yeah, I bet you're really glad that I can beat the crap out of you instead."

"Payback, I swear, payback is coming." The doorbell interrupted his glare.

"Pizza first, payback later," reaching into his back pocket, she grabbed his wallet and hurried to the door.

Pulling the door open, Hart stopped in her tracks, and cringed,"Uh, are you the pizza..." _Man? Woman?_ "...deliverer?"

"Yesh, I'm Josh."

"Joooooosh," she nodded in understanding,"Riiiiight."

"Well that'll be 13.99, pretty lady."

"Um," she flipped through the wallet, "Do you have change for a twenty?"

"Sure, I've got change, I keep my change _right_ here," he padded his belt.

"Well ok," she handed over the twenty,"Then you can just uh, keep the change. Have a nice day!" Grabbing the pizza with one hand, she shoved the door closed with her foot. "Matthews – have no further fears about me running away with the pizza man."

"Even if he was the last man on earth?"

"Do you really think he falls under the 'man' category?"

"Ouch – tough standards there Hart."

"Be nice – _I'm_ in possession of the pizza."

"I can be nice, I can be very nice," he looked up at her from the couch, tugging at the bottom of her shirt.

"Eeeeeeric," she smirked,"We just got pizza."

"I for one don't mind cold pizza, how 'bout you?" He pulled her into a deep kiss.

"Nope," she mumbled, her lips numb,"Cold pizza sounds good. Cold pizza sounds _very_ good."


	7. Goooood Morning!

Author's Note: Hmmm...So it's been almost three years since I updated this. Uhh...I'm sorry? Not sure if you can really apologize for that kind of story abandonment. But if you can, and if any of the same readers are out there: I'm sorry. And enjoy!

The next morning, Eric rolled over, cracking one eye open. He surveyed the damage of the past day's and night's events. Aside from the clothes strewn about, only a few lampshades, a couple dresser drawers, and a chair or two needed fixing… Chuckling to himself, he

turned his attention from the room to Hart, still sleeping peacefully next to him. She woke slowly to feeling of his hands running through her hair.

"Matthews," she murmured, still half asleep. "It's early. I don't want to play beauty shop right now."

"I can't help it Hart," he said,"I'm just amazed…your hair, it's still…perfect. After all this, it still looks good. So I just gotta ask…if you leave it alone and it looks like this, what the hell were you doing to it before?"

"Having wild sex with a biker gang," she muttered into the pillow, rolling over. "Now let me sleep." He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Oh yeah?" he said, pressing kisses onto her back. "And how were they?" Through the haze which still filled her head this early in the morning, Hart debated her options on how to answer to the question. Finally, she rolled back over to face him, pulling him to her with a kiss.

"Not as good as you, Matthews. Never as good as you."

-----------

The next thing Eric knew, the red light of his alarm clock was flashing an insistent 10:45 directly in his face. The persistent glow was enough to inspire him to sit up, disentangling himself from Grace and reaching for the clock. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, hitting the buttons. "We are in trou-ble." Hart shifted softly in her sleep and he looked down at her. "Worth it," he nodded,"But in trouble."

As if on cue, Matthews' cell phone began ringing insistently from across the room…from wherever he had left his pants. Hoping to catch it before it woke Hart, he began searching the room for the ring.

"Matthews," he greeted, finally seizing upon the offending device.

"Matthews," MacDonald's voice shot across the airwaves, gruff and annoyed as usual. "You're late. I give you time off and this is the kind of responsibility you show."

"Uh, yes, sir, just having a little trouble with my uh, … electricity this morning. Won't happen again," Eric tried to cover discreetly. "Certainly not."

"Good," MacDonald shot back,"I should hope not. Oh and Matthews-"

"Yes sir."

"You haven't seen Hart by chance, have you?"

"Uh, no sir, certainly haven't--"

"I'm having Margaret page her now."

"Oh, uh--" Before Matthews could act, Hart's beeper went off across the room, blaring. Eric shot after it, tossing the discarded clothes in search of the betraying noise.

"_Matthews_, that wouldn't happen to be what I think it is, would it?" MacDonald's voice, even and firm with growing annoyance, came across the line, accompanied by smothered snickers in the background. _Shit, _Eric cursed.

"Uh, I'm not sure sir, but um, I'm on speaker phone, aren't I captain?"

"Eric?" Gracie called out sleepily at that moment, "Eric, what're you doing?"

"Correction," MacDonald spoke,"You're both on speaker phone. Agents, I want you in here A.S.A.P."

_Click. Eric dropped the phone to the ground, abandoning the pile of clothes he'd been ransacking to find the pager and collapsed back on the bed. Hart, taking in the situation, groaned and flopped next to him._

"Add that to the list of things we've done to piss off MacDonald lately. But its not like we'll be fired."

"Even if--I've been fired before," Hart said, scooting closer. "It's really not that bad."

"Oh yeah?" Matthews asked, leaning over for a kiss.

"Yeah," Hart said, giving in,"And besides. This? Totally worth it."


End file.
